An Unexpected Occurence
by thegutterflower
Summary: When a rogue angel is loose, Constantine enlists the help of Mary, a girl who isn't everything she seems to be. ConstantineOC now complete
1. Chapter 1

Constantine was annoyed. He was itching for a cigarette, but when he reached his hand into his pocket there was a packet of gum instead. _Oh yeah,_ he thought, _I quit._ He popped the small piece of gum in his mouth and chewed slowly, all the while listening to the slow ticking of his watch.

"You're late, you know," Constantine said without bothering to look behind him. A small chuckle confirmed the presence behind his back.

"You cannot be late if you never set a time, Constantine," the voice reminded. "And I never gave you a precise time." Constantine turned and was awarded to see the image of the angel Caleb before him, the sight most people—or rather church freaks—would kill to see.

Caleb. After Gabriel went insane, not to mention human, Caleb was the angel Constantine turned to when he was in need of assistance, especially so when Midnite was into his whole "I must maintain the Balance" thing. Caleb, though he firmly stayed on his side of the Balance, did not mind sharing information he would happen to hear with Constantine, but only did so when he truly thought something was amiss.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Constantine said crossing his arms against his chest. He leaned against a tombstone. "So?"

"So?" repeated Caleb with furrowed brows.

Constantine gritted his teeth in frustration. "Typically, when someone asks someone else to meet him somewhere, there is a reason."

"Oh yes, of course," Caleb grinned. "Yes. It has come to my attention that we might have a problem on our hands." He paused, smiling at the man across from him.

Constantine rolled his eyes and spat out his gum. "Want to vague that up for me?" Sure, Caleb was alright at times, but usually, he was a pain in the ass.

"Oh but Constantine," Caleb returned, "You know how I love to see you squirm. Alright then, I'll tell you. I've heard there's a rogue angel roaming about, trying to cause the usual plight and mayhem upon your race."

"Again?"

"Yes, again," he confirmed. "I'm afraid that's all I know at the moment."

"Not even a name?" Constantine scolded. "Tsk, tsk, is someone losing his touch?"

Caleb just smiled. "We'll see, won't we, Constantine?" He vanished.

"Asshole," Constantine muttered as he put another piece of gum in his mouth. "'We'll see' my ass." So, another rogue angel, Jesus, what the hell was going on with angels suddenly losing their minds? Was the big guy upstairs losing his touch or something? Constantine didn't know; fucking Caleb didn't give him enough information to even _guess_ at what was going on.

_Better go see Midnite_, he thought as he walked out of the dark cemetery, _either he'll bitch at me or actually tell me something important._

_(0)_

"How many times do I have to tell you that my pace is neutral?" Midnite asked tensely. Constantine had just barged into his office, _again_, demanded answers, _again_, and insulted a demon, _again_. This guy really, really needed to get the shit beat out of him_. Like it would matter anyway,_ Midnite thought glumly, _he'd still come back, pulling the same shit like he always does._

Constantine shrugged. "Don't know, don't really care. Now, if you could just tell me what I want to know, I'll gladly leave." Out of the corner of his eye he saw the demon practically glow red from anger. That somewhat made him feel better.

"I am neutral, John," Midnite growled. "I know nothing."

Constantine raised an eyebrow. "You really think I'll fall for that?"

Midnite glared at him. "Get out," he said to the demon, "I need a minute alone with Mr. Constantine here." The demon growled, but obeyed nonetheless.

"Well?" Constantine prompted.

"One day, I will kill you," vowed Midnite, "but here." He held out a small slip of paper with an address written on it. Constantine looked at him questioningly.

"Go to there," Midnite said. "There will be a women singing. She will be of great help." He held up a hand, stopping an interruption. "That is all I will say, John, ask me no more. Only she will be able to help you."

Constantine sighed. "You better be right." He turned to open the door.

"Remember to listen, John!" was the last thing he heard before he shut the door. The demon he pissed off earlier was leaning against a wall, staring at Constantine, who, in turn, rolled his eyes. _Been to hell and back and they still think I'm threatened by them._

He gave him the finger as he walked along, not caring one way or another.

Once outside, he glanced at the address: 5308 Gallantry. Versailles. Constantine rolled his eyes. Versailles, like they really couldn't think of a better name. He hailed a cab and handed the driver the address. He couldn't help but think of Chas, poor Chas who didn't deserve to die. Constantine leaned his head back against the window, silently mourning for the few friends he had that had died. Father Hennessey, Beeman, and Chas. Killed just because they were helping him.

(0)

Versailles turned out to be a small, dinky club on Gallantry Street. Unless looking for it, no one would have seen it there, squished between two different, and larger, buildings, but there it was, in all it's lackluster glory.

Constantine paid the cab fair and put his hands in his trench coat pockets. Even the sign on top of the place was dim, with three letters completely blacked out. He popped a piece of gum in his mouth and trudged inside the establishment, taking a seat at the bar that was close to a stage of some sort. He ordered a drink and prepared himself to be in for disappointment.

Not long after Constantine took the first sip of his drink, a young lady walked carefully up on the stage. She sat down gracefully on a chair placed in the center, with a guitar on her lap, and glanced around nervously. Constantine didn't even notice her before she started singing.

His head whipped to his right and saw her. She was pretty, he noticed, short, with long, black and curly hair. He couldn't see her eyes, but from his view she seemed decent. Her voice, however, was a completely different story.

Constantine had never heard anything so beautiful. Her voice was deep, soulful, yet light and pretty all at once. Her fingers on her left hand, seemingly small, moved nimbly across the guitar's frets while the right hand's fingers alternated between plucking and strumming the metal strings. Her nails were painted a pearly white color, he noticed. Her voice entranced him, making him feel all sorts of emotions that he wasn't supposed to feel. He should have been glad when her song was over, but, instead, he sat there, drink in hand, feeling oddly bereft.

_Well, at least I found her. _

The girl smiled shyly around the room after her song was finished. When her gaze crossed Constantine's, their eyes locked, and her smile slowly dropped down, leaving an intense, puzzled look on her face. She broke the contact abruptly and tottered off the stage. He watched as she packed her guitar up, happily noticing her body's curves, and then followed her as she left Versailles.

She was just about to hail a cab when it happened. Her high-pitched scream went unnoticed by everyone, except Constantine, who was already sprinting toward her. The demon had grabbed her around the waist and was lifting her off the ground. It didn't see him coming.

"Hey, asshole!" Constantine yelled as he punched the demon, making him let go of the girl. She scrambled behind him.

"Help me," she pleaded, holding Constantine's arm in a death grip.

"I am," he said, shaking out of her hold. He knelt across the demon's body and held a cross that he had pulled out of his pockets against his forehead. The demon hissed in response.

Constantine leaned close to the demon's ear. "This is Constantine. John Constantine, asshole," he whispered before muttering a Latin prayer. The demon screamed in pain, but soon evaporated, leaving Constantine and the girl alone.

As he stood up, he gave the girl another look over. Now that he had a clear view of her face, he saw that she had green eyes, green eyes and a lot of black, curly hair. She was wearing a black top, leaving her arms and shoulder bare, and showing cleavage, not enough to be obscene, but enough for anyone to notice. She was also wearing a grey skirt that fell to her knees with black boots that reached a little below the skirt.

In short, Constantine thought she was beautiful.

He held out a hand. "John Constantine," he said. The girl glanced down at his hand before shaking it.

"Mary Draven," she said. She let go of his hand and bent to pick up her guitar case. "Um, thank you for…whatever that was that just happened," she said awkwardly.

Constantine waved off her apology. "Yeah, yeah. Listen, you're coming with me." He held out his hand again.

Mary raised her eyebrows. "Oh? And what makes you think that?"

"Because I'm telling you that you are," Constantine said dryly.

"Whoa, listen, Mr. Constantine," Mary said holding her hands up. "I appreciate what you did and all, but you got another thing coming if you think I'm going to…do _anything_ with you."

Constantine rolled his eyes. "Believe me; sleeping with you is the last thing on my mind right now." _Liar_, he thought. Mary just stared at him.

He sighed. "Fine." He pulled out an old gum packet from his pocket and penned down his address for her.

"If you get scared of see anything funny, I want you to come here," he said, giving her the gum packet.

"Funny?" she repeated. "As in, 'funny' like what just happened?"

"Basically," Constantine agreed. He noticed with satisfaction that she looked scared.

"So, it might happen again?" she asked with a grim expression upon her lovely face.

Constantine nodded. "Probably." He turned and started to walk away.

_Three, two, one…_

"Mr. Constantine!"

He turned. "Yes?"

Mary smiled hesitantly. "Um, maybe I, you know, should come with you, um, for now anyways."

Constantine tried to hide his smile. "Sure."


	2. Chapter 2

"So, why do you think that demon was after me?" Mary asked. Constantine shrugged.

"Damned if I know," he answered honestly. He was trying not to think about how good she smelled, or how he could feel the warmth of her body almost against his own in the backseat of the cab they shared.

"Are you a virgin?" he asked bluntly, thoroughly enjoying the blush that crept over her face.

"That's a very personal question, Mr. Constantine," she said. He shrugged again.

"Maybe that's why he wanted you," he said. "They do enjoy corrupting the pure and innocent."

"What makes you think I'm either of those?" Mary asked with raised eyebrows. Constantine felt a little warm all of the sudden. He didn't know what to say.

"Maybe because you seem like you are," he settled for. _Jesus…_

This time Mary shrugged. "Well, it's really none of your business." She paused. "Um, I want to stop by my apartment before we go wherever it is we're going."

Constantine massaged his neck. "Yeah, sure."

Mary breathed a sigh of relief. "Good," she said. "I kind of want to change and stuff."

Constantine's eyebrows rose at "and stuff" but let it pass. It did seem a bit…odd that Mary was so suddenly willing to accompany him to his place, maybe there was something he missed about her. He closed his eyes, letting his mind drift towards hers, but was met with resistance.

He opened his eyes again and glanced at Mary. She was leaning her forehead against the cab's window, idly watching the other cars. He inwardly sighed. Ok, so she wasn't a telepath, that's good right? Or is it bad?

_Damn you, Midnite,_ he thought. _What the hell am I supposed to do with her?_

The cab stopped in front of Mary's apartment a few moments later. Mary practically jumped out the door, leaving Constantine to pay the cab driver. She smiled apologetically.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I don't have any money."

Due to a broken elevator, they had to climb the stairs. Constantine felt around, making sure there was no demon in sight. Luckily, there wasn't. He breathed a sigh of relief, and willed himself not to stare at Mary's ass in front of him. He lost.

"Here's my floor," she said as she pushed the metal door, holding it open for him.

"Finally," Constantine breathed. Mary glared at him, but stayed silent as she reached her door and opened it. She was about to enter it, but Constantine's hand stopped her.

"I go first," he said, his voice clearly stating that there was no room for argument. Mary nodded and stepped aside, letting him through.

Constantine walked slowly through the apartment, mentally checking its safety. It was small, only three rooms: bathroom, bedroom, and kitchen/living room. There wasn't a demon or evil spirit there.

"How…quaint," he commented, motioning for Mary to come in.

She glared at him. "I can't afford anything else," she said tensely. "Sorry it doesn't appeal to you." She walked past him, dropping her guitar case on her old, beaten couch.

"I'll be out soon," she said without looking at him as she opened her bedroom door. She closed it, leaving Constantine alone. He sat next to her guitar case, observing the blank walls around him. When Mary came out, she was wearing jeans, a white tank, and a black zipped hoodie. She was also wearing a simple gold cross necklace.

"Done?" Constantine asked, trying to sound like he didn't notice how pretty she looked, even in simple clothes. Mary pursed her lips together and nodded.

"Good," he said standing up, "let's go."

Mary glared at his back, mimicking him with her mouth. Suddenly, Constantine's hand jutted out and stopped her from passing him. She bumped into him, and looked at him questioningly. He motioned her to be quiet while he listened.

He grabbed her arm. "Come on," he said, pulling her along with him.

"Wait!" she cried, pulling away from him and rushing back into the apartment. Before Constantine could even utter a response, she came back, only this time she had her guitar case with her.

"What the hell?" he said, with disgust apparent on his face.

"I need it, ok?" she said, closing her door. Constantine rolled his eyes, grabbing her once again, and hurried down the steps to the street.

"What's the hurry?" she asked harshly. Constantine glared at her. For someone so pretty, she could be a real big pain in the ass.

"I heard something," he said shortly. He hailed a cab. "Get in."

Mary slid in the cab pouting, ignoring the feel of Constantine pressed up against her. Her guitar case was lying across their laps. He was so darn annoying…

Of course, she knew who he was; practically everyone who knew about the Balance knew who the infamous John Constantine was. He was the one who stopped Satan's son from taking over Earth. He was also rude, arrogant, snide…the list could go on and on.

_Too bad he's so good looking_, Mary thought.

Truth be told, when Mary first laid eyes on Constantine at Versailles, she didn't know who he was. She lacked the ability to read minds or anything else for that matter, so, naturally, all she saw was this attractive guy sitting at the bar. It was a complete surprise to see him come to her rescue when that demon attacked her; it was _then_ she knew that this was John Constantine, which ultimately meant she was in trouble.

Constantine didn't know what she was; at least, she didn't _think_ he knew. Mary Draven was a siren—well, a quarter siren anyway. She didn't have the full capabilities that a real siren had; in fact, all she could pretty much do was sing well. If concentrating really hard, Mary could hypnotize someone, even with a strong mental barrier, but that was it. Mary shifted and sighed, trying to ignore how good Constantine smelled. The breeze from the cabbie's open window didn't help.

_First there are demons after me, and now I'm crushing on John Constantine. Great. _

Constantine sniffed suddenly, causing Mary to jump out of her reverie. She watched at he narrowed his eyes, watching the cab driver. "You just missed the turn," he pointed out suspiciously.

The cabbie never answered, just smiled wickedly. Mary felt Constantine stiffen beside here, which, in turn, made her blood run cold.

_Oh, no_, she thought.

She glanced at Constantine with wide eyes, but he wasn't paying attention to her. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a little square package. He shook it, and a high-pitched screeching sound followed.

The cabbie shrieked, making the cab swerve into the next lane of traffic, causing other drivers to honk in response.

"Damn it!" Constantine bellowed. He pushed Mary's guitar case aside, thrusting Mary against the cab door, and jumped into the front seat. The cabbie lunged toward him, heedless of the car's swerving. Constantine shook the little package again, making the demon retreat to the driver's seat again.

Mary started to hyperventilate.

"You cannot stop me, Constantine," the demon screeched. Constantine resisted rolling his eyes. He kicked the demon out of the open window, and then jumped into the driver's seat, hastily rolling the window up and trying to get into the right lane all at once.

"That's what they always say," he muttered as he gave the finger through the now closed window. He glanced at Mary through the rearview mirror. "You ok?" he asked. Mary nodded, not quite yet ready to speak yet.

"Don't worry," Constantine said a bit awkwardly. "We're almost there." He gave a short laugh. "Good thing he was stupid enough to leave the window open."

_Jesus, what's wrong with me,_ he thought, _when did I become so awkward?_


	3. Chapter 3

Constantine and Mary arrived at his place a few moments later. Mary still had not said a word since the second demon attack. Just their luck, it also started to rain. _I really wish I had a cigarette,_ Constantine thought, before popping a piece of gum in his mouth.

He stepped out of the cab, heedless of the rain pouring down. He opened the door for Mary and held out his hand. Mary took it, pulling herself and her guitar case out with her. Constantine couldn't help but notice how her fingers were trembling. Without thinking, he put his arm around her, steering her in the right direction to get inside. She followed his lead blindly.

_She feels so warm_, Constantine thought absently as he opened his front door. Mary stepped through the doorway and stood awkwardly next to his table, waiting for him to make the next move.

He took off his coat, draping it across the back of a chair. "You're wet," he observed, mentally slapping himself. Mary smiled slightly.

"Yes, that appears to be so," she teased lightly. Constantine found himself smiling back. He jerked his head to his bedroom.

"Come on," he said, leading her. "You can borrow something of mine." He opened his closet and pulled out a white oxford shirt, much like the one he was already wearing. He handed it to her.

"Until your clothes dry," he explained. Mary nodded, and took the shirt. She stared at him expectantly. He simply stared back, wondering how it was possible for her to look beautiful even when she was drenched.

"You don't expect me to change in front of you, do you?" Mary asked with raised eyebrows. Constantine inwardly cursed himself.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," he said. He pointed to a small room. "There's the bathroom." Mary smiled again, and walked to the room he pointed to, stopping in the doorway.

"Um, Mr. Constantine?" she asked, turning back to look at him, pushing her hair away from her face.

"John," he corrected without thinking.

"John," she repeated, "What happened to your bathtub?"

(0)

Moments later, they both sat across from each other at Constantine's table. Mary seemed to be only dressed in Constantine's shirt, and he had a bit of trouble concentrating on something other than that fact. Noticing her great legs didn't help much either.

"T-there's something I should tell you," Mary said, looking down at her lap.

"Well?"

"Um, you see, I'm not exactly human." When she said "human" she looked up to see his reaction. His face was blank. "I'm part siren."

"_Part_ siren?" Constantine repeated. _Well, that explains her voice._

"Yes," Mary confirmed. "My mother was a half siren…and I also know who you are."

_Surprise, surprise,_ Constantine thought. _Who doesn't know who I am these days?_ He did wonder why he never saw the glow in her eyes, the glow that all half breeds had. _Probably because her blood is far too diluted._

"Anything else?" he asked dryly.

Mary shook her head. "That's all, I promise. That's all I've kept from you." Constantine raised an eyebrow.

"It's true," Mary insisted. "I didn't even know who you were before you saved me the first time from that demon."

"Why were you there?" he asked. At Mary's taken back expression, he said, "There had to have been a reason you were there. I was sent there to find you." Now, suddenly, Midnite's last words to him "remember to listen" made sense.

She was a quarter siren. Constantine should've known it was impossible for him to be attracted to anything, well, _normal_. After all, he wasn't _normal_, so why should his significant other be _normal_ as well? _Significant other,_ he thought, _why did I just think that? _But none of this explained anything that had to do with the rogue angel.

"I don't know," Mary answered honestly. "I just felt like getting out and, well, _singing_. But I didn't use any of my power; I wouldn't do that, John. I _swear_."

"That's why you brought the guitar, isn't it?" Constantine asked, indicating to the case beside her on the floor. "I thought sirens only played lutes and harps."

"Misconception," Mary corrected wearily. "We can pretty much play anything we want. I really like the guitar." She bit her lip. "Besides, since I'm only a quarter, I don't have all the…advantages other sirens have." Constantine nodded, unsure of what to say.

"Well," he said finally, getting up to retrieve a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. "Now that we're getting everything out in the open, there's something I didn't tell you." He poured himself a glass and offered it to Mary. She shook her head.

Shrugging, and chugging the drink, Constantine sat back down. "I'm on a mission," he said somewhat arrogantly. "Seems that there's a rogue angel running around town."

"And?" prompted Mary. Constantine rubbed the back of his neck.

"And that's all I know," he said. "Damn half breed couldn't tell me anything else, so I went to this guy I know, told me to find you."

"You know," Mary said fiercely. "The term 'half breed' is really offensive, especially with me being worst than that. I'd appreciate it if you didn't say that around me."

Constantine shrugged again, and just drank some more. "Whatever."

Mary's shoulder's sagged. "Are you mad at me?" she asked, her big green eyes watery. Constantine just looked at her.

_Oh, _fuck_, is she going to cry?_

"Uh," he said. "No…"

Mary's eyes were still swimming in unshed tears. "I can't help it, you know, being what I am. I didn't _tell_ my mother to seduce my father and then _dump_ me with him after I was born. I didn't _ask_ to sing or to play any instrument I wanted, and I think it's very wrong of you to judge me for something I have no control over."

_Shit_.

Constantine felt a weird ache deep down in his stomach. "Mary…" he started.

"And I'm sorry someone told you to find me," she continued. "It's not as if I _enjoy_ being attacked by demons, either. And, frankly, I don't even see how I can help you out with any of this. I have no powers whatsoever." She was going to say more, but Constantine cut her off.

"I'm sorry," he said, surprised to find that he actually meant it. "I shouldn't take out my anger on you."

Mary sniffed. "Well, you're forgiven then," she said. She pointed a polished finger at him. "But you do it again, I'll kick your ass."

Constantine smiled without realizing it. "I thought you didn't have any powers."

"No, but I have a great right hook," she teased, flashing him one of her brilliant smiles. He chuckled, glancing at her. Mary's heart beat faster, loving the sound of it. _He probably never laughs, _shethought.

"I have no doubt of that," he said, the humor evident in his voice. Mary was about to retort before a large yawn prevented her from doing so.

"You're tired," Constantine said, getting up and holding his hand out to hers. "You should sleep."

Mary smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I should," she agreed, taking his hand. She was already growing used to the feel of his large hand engulfing hers. It was nice, comforting.

_It's amazing that he can be so gentle_, Mary thought as Constantine led her to his bed. _Who'd have thought this was _the_ John Constantine?_

Mary sat on the edge of the bed, and was surprised when Constantine flopped down on the other side.

"Um, John?" she asked.

"Hmm?" he grunted, eyes closed.

"Um…"

Constantine cracked open one eye. "What?" he asked. "You think you're the only one who's tired?" Mary bit her lip, turning red.

_God, I love it when she does that…_

"Well…" she trailed off, still red as a beat. Constantine resisted a smile.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll stay on my side if you'll stay on yours. Here, I'll even be nice and sleep _over_ the covers."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" Mary asked dryly, apparently over her bout of shyness.

Constantine sighed. "Fine. I'll sleep on the chair."


	4. Chapter 4

It was late, and Constantine still couldn't get to sleep. It didn't help that he was sitting uncomfortably in a chair when Mary was in his bed. There she was, sleeping soundly in one of _his_ shirts and in _his_ bed.

Life just wasn't fair.

_She looks so peaceful,_ Constantine thought absently, watching Mary sleep. Her tangled hair seemed to be everywhere; framing her face, lying on her face, spread out against his pillow. She made little noises, too, little sighs as she unknowingly pulled the covers around her tighter or burrowing further against the pillow beneath her. Her breathing was even, shallow, a good sign.

Naturally, Constantine knew that something was wrong as soon as Mary's eyes tightened and she began to kick about underneath the covers. Her breathing changed from slow and calm to harsh, almost panting. He rushed to her side, grabbing her and shaking her.

"Mary," he said, commanding her to wake up. "Mary, wake up. _Mary_." She woke up with a start, eyes wildly looking around before settling on Constantine's concerned face. She was sweating.

"Are you ok?"

"John," she sobbed, practically collapsing against him, curling her hand around his bicep. "Oh my God, John."

_Um, ok…_

He put his arms around her awkwardly, feeling her tears against his bare chest. John noticed the heavy covers had slipped down to Mary's thighs, giving him a clear view of her underwear. _Hmm, purple,_ he thought absently as he rubbed her back, trying to give her as much comfort as possible.

"It's ok, Mary," he said aloud. He closed his eyes, allowing himself the pleasure of feeling her body against his own, even with only her, or rather _his_, shirt between their chests.

After a while, she looked up at him, but didn't release her hold on him. Her eyes were bloodshot. Constantine was amazed that she could _still_ look so pretty. "John," she gasped. "I saw something. I-I don't know what it was, but…but it was _horrible_, John, just so horrible. I've never seen anything like it in my life."

"What did you see?" he asked calmly. Mary shuddered.

"It was…abstract," she said slowly, staring at his chest. "There was so much darkness and despair, like hell. Everything was torn and twisted." She looked back up at him. "And in the center of it all, there was a man…or, at least, I think it was a man. No, no, wait…he had wings! Oh, John, it must've been the angel!"

Constantine's gut clenched. "Is there anything else you remember?"

Mary bit her lip, a habit that Constantine recognized. "Yes," she said. "His name, he whispered his name to me. Raphael." She looked into his eyes. "His name is Raphael."

Constantine cocked his head. "I thought you said you didn't have any abilities," he pointed out.

"I don't," Mary insisted. "This has never happened to me before."

Constantine exhaled deeply. "You should probably go back to sleep," he concluded. "We'll figure it out in the morning."

"But John―"

"We're not going to get anything accomplished right now, Mary," Constantine interrupted. "Trust me. It's ok, just go back to sleep." His arms dropped from her sides as he moved to take his respectful seat at his chair. Mary's arm stopped him.

"No," she said softly, avoiding his deep gaze. "Please, I'm still…scared. C-can you hold me, even if it's only for a little while?"

Constantine swallowed, but he didn't need to be asked twice. "Sure," he agreed. Mary smiled slightly, still refusing to look at him, and curled to her side. Constantine hesitated, but then settled behind her, her back molded against his chest. His arm draped loosely over her waist and his legs cradled her own. Mary shivered, but not from being cold.

"I'm here," he whispered in her ear, breathing in her sweet scent. She smelled like peaches, a scent that Constantine was slowly beginning to love. "I'll protect you."

Mary's eyes grew heavier and heavier with each breath she took. She lightly touched Constantine's hand, entangling her fingers with his, in a silent thank you, still in the space between sleep and awake, but before she fell asleep, she was sure she felt a warm pair of lips rest against the top of her head.

Mary and Constantine fell asleep quickly, spooned together, warm and happy.

(0)

When Mary awoke, the first thing she noticed was the very masculine body facing her. Her eyes briefly widened in panic before remembering that it was Constantine. Panic was soon replaced by flushed embarrassment.

_I must have turned to face him in my sleep._

Feeling that she'd never get this opportunity again, Mary studied Constantine, memorizing every line in his face. The way his arm draped almost possessively around her, the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he took. Mary tentatively touched his cheek with the back of her hand, marveling at how natural it felt it be so close to him, even though he was asleep. Without really knowing what she was doing, Mary's eyes fluttered closed as she pressed her lips against his own.

Constantine responded instantly, pressing his lips against Mary's harder. His hand found the back of her head and pressed her against him urgently as his tongue slipped past her lips. Mary gasped and then moaned, twining her arms around Constantine, carefully rubbed her tongue against his.

When he felt her respond, Constantine moaned, his other hand snaking down to her waist, sliding underneath the material to touch her bare skin. Mary hissed in response, throwing her head back, giving Constantine the perfect opportunity to explore the pale column of her neck.

Mary had never felt so…wanted before. The way Constantine was touching her, kissing her; it was a rush, an adrenaline rush that could compare to nothing she had ever felt before. She felt his hand inch ever so slowly up to her breasts. _Please, _please, she thought, longing for his touch.

Then something snapped.

"No," Mary gasped, pushing Constantine away. She tried to cover herself up as much as possible.

Constantine just sat there, watching her dejectedly. _She looks so upset_, he thought, _probably changed her mind about getting…involved with me. Hmmm, I seem to have that effect on lots of people._

"Well," he said aloud, "good morning to you, too."

Mary's heart broke for him. He looked so sad. "John…"

He stood up and began looking for his shirt. "Hey don't worry about it," he said absently. "I'm used to it. No big deal."

"John." She was standing next to him now. She held on to his arm so he wouldn't walk away from her. "Please, listen to me."

Constantine looked her in the eye and Mary was shocked to see all the hidden pain there. It made her feel for him even more. Here was a man who didn't know how to love, and Mary was furious at herself for making it seem like she didn't want him.

"Alright," he said dully. He sat on the chair next to the bed. He crossed his arms against his chest, waiting. Mary gulped and sat across from him on the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I didn't mean to…to…" Constantine held up a hand.

"Like I said," he said somewhat harshly. "It's fine."

"No, it's not," Mary said, tucking her disheveled hair behind her ear. "I meant to say that I didn't mean to push you away." His face remained as passive as ever.

Mary continued, "I just…I only just met you, John, and with this whole Raphael thing, I just want to take it slow. It's too soon for something like," she gulped, "sex." His face was still the same. Mary bit her lip, waiting.

Constantine sighed, tension escaping from his shoulders in waves. He leaned his elbows against his knees, burring his face in his hands. "I know," he said, his voice muffled.

Mary's hand pressed against her chest. It physically hurt to see him like this. She silently stood up and padded over to him. She touched the back of his neck, comforting him. Constantine moved to hold her against him, arms wrapped around her waist and his face pressed against her stomach.

They sat there, silently, without moving for a few moments, and then Constantine tugged, pulling Mary into his lap. He stared at her, wondering if he could make this work and desperately wanting to try.

"Do you think it'll work?" he asked softly. Mary caressed the side of his face. She smiled gently.

"I'm willing to try," she answered, "are you?"

Constantine nodded and held her tighter, resting his head against her neck. He breathed in her peachy scent, marveling at how perfect she fit against him. He felt Mary kiss the top of his head and he sighed.

_I love you._


	5. Chapter 5

"I think I found something," Constantine muttered as he studied the large, dusty book in his lap. He and Mary had just gone through Beeman's old stuff, researching for anything mentioning Raphael.

"Oh?" Mary asked peering over his shoulder. She leaned against him, her soft breasts against his back. Constantine closed his eyes. This girl wasn't even doing anything and it still turned him on.

"What did you find?" Mary continued, apparently not having noticed Constantine's…reaction. He opened his eyes, reminding himself to stay on task.

"Here," he said, pointing to a particular passage. "It says that Raphael will put forth the End of Days, uh, help Beelzebub, plunge the earth into hell, et cetera, blah, blah, blah. Ah, here's something. Raphael will need a…" Constantine chuckled, "a virgin." He looked at Mary expectantly.

"What?" she asked leaning back on her heels.

"You never answered my question," he reminded with a slight smile.

"What question?" Mary asked suspiciously.

"Are you a virgin?"

Mary looked down at her lap, crossing her arms against her chest. She shook her head. "No, I'm not," she admitted. She looked at him. "I was raped all through my childhood."

Constantine's smile vanished instantly. "Jesus, Mary, I'm sorry, I had no idea."

Mary held up a hand and smiled gently. "It's ok, John, no big deal. I've way over it." She leaned back against him. "What else does it say?"

_God, I'm such a prick._

"Um, let me see," he said, scanning the page. "Raphael will also need…" Constantine stopped short, rereading the sentence. He dropped the book.

"God damn it," he said harshly, pushing himself up. Mary copied him.

"What's wrong?" she asked worryingly.

"He needs the Spear of Destiny."

(0)

"Yeah, well get her on the phone, got it?" Constantine practically yelled into the phone. "No, don't put me of fucking hold. Arg!" He slammed the phone on the receiver.

"DAMN IT!" he yelled, banging his fist on the table. He kicked the chair, making it fall to the floor with a cloud clank. Mary watched calmly.

"John," she said softly. "What is going on?"

Constantine began pacing. "The Spear of Destiny, Angela was supposed to hide it, but she didn't, or she wasn't fucking smart enough to think of a good place." He let out an aggravated grunt. "Raphael already has it. I can _feel_ it."

Mary nodded. "Ok, well, then let's go find Angela. You said she was a police officer, right?"

Constantine was going to answer, but the phone rang, beating him to it. "Hello?" he barked. "Angela, about God damn time. Where did you put the spear? I know what I told you, damn it, but now someone else has it! Raphael. An angel. Yes. Fine, hurry." He slammed the phone back down. He turned to face one of the windows, leaning his arms against its frame. He really, _really_ wanted a cigarette.

He was so frustrated that he didn't even notice Mary coming up behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her forehead between his shoulder blades. Constantine relaxed, somewhat, and held her hands against him.

"Angela will be here soon," he said, breaking the silence. He turned to face her. "She'll help us."

Mary smiled at him, trying to make him feel better. "Good," she said. "Is she nice?"

Constantine smiled. "Yeah, she's alright. She is the one who broke my bathtub, though."

Realization dawned on her. "Oh, that's the one who helped you out with the Gabriel thing?" Constantine nodded. Mary narrowed her eyes.

"Is there something between you two?" she asked suspiciously.

"No," Constantine answered truthfully. "We used to call each other, trying to make it work, but it never did."

"So I'm not going to have to share you or anything then, right?"

Constantine raised his eyebrows. _She doesn't want to share me?_

"No," he said, staring into her deep, green eyes. "No, you won't." He framed Mary's face with his large hands, feeling her rest hers on his waist.

"You're beautiful," he said truthfully. Mary blushed.

"John," she said awkwardly, wishing she didn't have to gaze up at his brown eyes probing into her own. "No I'm not—"

"Yeah, you are," Constantine breathed. "That's the beauty of it; you don't even realize how pretty you are."

_How can he think that about me? _He's_ the beautiful one, not me._ Her eyes watered._ I think I love him._

"John…" Mary whispered, "If you say any more I won't be held responsible for my actions."

He smiled, releasing a small laugh with his breathing. "Trust me; I don't have a problem with that."

Mary sniffed, her eyes glowing, gazing up at him with all the love in her heart. Constantine felt his insides melt. He leaned down slowly, forgetting about Raphael and the Spear of Destiny, his thoughts only toward the lovely creature before him. Their lips met, touching softly, gently.

Mary sighed, sliding her hands from Constantine's waist to his shoulders. She felt his tongue venture out, sweetly probing her sealed lips—a silent plea to gain access to her mouth. At the first touch of their tongues, Mary's knees felt weak, causing her to lean more fully against Constantine, who, in turn, did not seem to mind at all. He simply tightened his hold on her, pulling her flush against his body.

The kiss quickly turned from a gentle declaration of love and adoration to a harsh, lustful meeting of lips, tongues, and teeth. Mary gasped and clasped her arms around Constantine's neck, rising on her tiptoes to meet his enthusiasm. She ran her fingers through his dark hair, massaging his scalp with her fingertips. Constantine moaned.

With no real thought in his head, Constantine picked Mary up and sat her on the edge of the table, standing between her parted legs. He gripped her waist, loving the feel of her. Her scent surrounded him to the point where he felt he was drowning. He loved the little sounds she kept making, the moans and the sighs. He loved her fingers in his hair.

_I love you,_ he thought.

Unfortunately, a knock on the door prevented Constantine from going any further. His eyes snapped open, finding Mary's green eyes staring back at him. She let her hands drop from his hair to his shoulders as his hands slipped from her waist to her thighs. They sat there, lips still pressed together, simply staring.

"John!" cried a voice on the other side of the door. "John! Open the door!" Constantine sighed, suddenly remembering Angela and everything else. He pulled away from Mary.

"Sorry," he said, his voice hoarse. "I kind of…forgot myself."

Mary nodded, absently touching her lips. Hair even more disheveled than usual, eyes hazy, lips swollen, plus the way she was seated at the table, Constantine drank in her appearance with as much enthusiasm as a parched man staring at a tall glass of water.

"Me, too," Mary said, her voice hoarse as well. Constantine wanted nothing more than to grab her, throw her over his shoulder, and take her to his bed, where he would spend the rest of his life worshipping her body with his own. But, alas, there was work to do, a world to save, and an angel to defeat. Also, Angela was at the front door.

"About time," Angela muttered as soon as Constantine opened the door. She pushed past him, pausing when she saw Mary, who had now moved to the more respectable chair. Constantine brushed past her, walking to a cabinet. He pulled out a new package of gum.

"Angela, Mary," he introduced, popping a piece of gum into his mouth. "Mary, Angela."

Mary smiled. "Hi," she greeted in a cheery tone. Angela raised an eyebrow.

"Hi," she said, glancing suspiciously at Constantine. "John?"

"The Spear," he said, distracting Angela's attention from Mary. "Where did you put it?"

Angela wrapped her arms around herself in a protective manner. "Somewhere safe," she answered. "I don't believe this Raphael guy has it. It's impossible."

"Where did you put it, Angela?" Constantine repeated.

Angela put her hands on her hips. "Alright, if you must know, the Vatican City."

"The Vatican City? Why the hell did you put it there?"

"I don't know, maybe because it's _safe_ there?"

Constantine gritted his teeth in aggravation. "Well, obviously, it wasn't so safe there if Raphael already has it, is it?"

Angela's eyes narrowed dangerously. "It _is_ safe there, John, and don't you—" The sound of something hard falling interrupted her. Both Angela and Constantine turned towards Mary, and both were shocked at what they saw.

Mary had fallen out of her chair, sprawled out on the cold floor. Her eyes had rolled back into her head and she was shaking violently, harsh gargling noising coming from her throat.

"SHIT!" Constantine yelled jumping over the table to her side. He straddled her waist and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her slightly.

"Mary," he commanded. "Mary, MARY!" Mary shut her eyes tightly, opening them a second later, revealing her dilated pupils. Her shaking having stopped, she began to hyperventilate, her eyes looking wildly around, desperate to focus on something.

"She's having a panic attack," Angela gasped, leaning next to Constantine.

"Mary," Constantine repeated. "Mary, look at me." He took her chin between his thumb and index finger, gently forcing her to look at him. "That's right, look at me."

Mary blinked, her breathing slowly becoming controlled again. "John," she muttered brokenly. She sobbed, and buried her face in his chest.

Constantine, a little off balance, hugged her against him fiercely. "It's ok," he whispered, "I'm here." He didn't care that Angela was watching or what she might have been thinking, all that mattered was Mary.

He closed his eyes. "Don't ever scare me like that again," he said. He pulled away from her gently. He wiped away her tears with his thumbs. "Now, what happened?"

Mary gulped. "It was like the dream I had," she admitted. "Everything was the same, except…except, this time, I think I-I actually _saw_ the Spear." She shuddered. "It was in his hand, John, and…and he looked straight at me…"

Constantine's stomach clenched. "And…" he prompted.

"And he smiled," Mary continued, "and he said that I was his." She looked at him, not bothering to shield her fear and uncertainty. This was John, and even though she had only met him the day before, she already felt she had known him all her life. She trusted him.

_I think I love him, too. _

"He looked right at me and said, 'Mine.'"

Constantine leaned back. "God Damn it."


	6. Chapter 6

An hour later, Angela, Constantine, and Mary were seated at the table, a pile of books from Beeman's collection between them. It was quiet, each staring intently at his or her book, silently praying to find something to help them with the Raphael situation. So, naturally, when Constantine slammed his book shut with a loud thud, Angela and Mary looked up.

"Damn it," Constantine said. "There's nothing here that we don't already know."

"We've still got a few books to look through, John," Angela reminded.

Constantine shook his head. "No, it's taking too long." He stood up, pulling on his coat. "I'm going to see Midnite." He opened the front door, pausing to glance at Mary.

"I'll be back soon," he assured. "You'll be save here." Mary nodded, smiling at him.

"Be careful," she warned. Constantine mock saluted and then left, slamming the door behind him. Angela and Mary were left alone.

Angela picked up a large, dusty book. "So," she said as she opened it, "How long have you known John?"

"About a day," Mary answered absently, turning the page of her own book.

"Only a day?" Angela asked with raised eyebrows.

Mary glanced up at the tone of her voice. "Yes. Is that a big deal?"

Angela shrugged. "I don't know, you just seem to be on…friendly terms with him, that's all."

"Jealous?" asked Mary. There was no accusation or gloating in her tone, just innocent curiosity.

Angela smiled ruefully. "No, just surprised. I've known John for a while now. I've never seen him so open with someone. It's a little unnerving."

Mary nodded. "It's…weird," she admitted. "I only met him last night, yet I kind of feel like I've known him forever. He makes me feel…safe."

"Well, he certainly seems to like you," Angela said. "He isn't as rude as he usually is."

Mary laughed. "He's just under a lot of stress right now, I'm sure he'll be back to normal soon."

Angela smiled. She liked Mary, it was just odd that she and Constantine had only met the day before and were already acting a bit more than friendly. As Mary went back to studying her book, Angela studied her. She noticed a very, very faint glow on her green eyes. It was so faint, that Angela wasn't even sure that she saw it.

"A-are you…human?" Angela asked suspiciously. Mary looked at her guiltily, almost as if she had been expecting the question.

She shook her head. "No," she answered truthfully. "I'm part siren."

"_Part_ siren?"

"Yes," Mary admitted. "But I can't really do anything, other than sing, I mean." Angela sighed, slumping in her chair.

It was going to be a long day.

(0)

When Constantine arrived back home, he found Angela, diligently reading another large book, and Mary, sleeping. He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"She passed out," Angela explained. "She seemed so tired, so I didn't wake her up."

Constantine nodded, taking of his coat and slumping into a chair. "Anything?" he asked.

Angela shook her head. "No, nothing. What happened at Midnite's?"

"The only way to summon Raphael is to lure him with singing," Constantine said. "At least, that's what I figure. Midnite was still going on with his neutral crap."

"Singing?" questioned Angela. She tossed her head in Mary's direction. "She'll have to lure him then?"

Constantine loosened his tie. "Yeah, that's what I'm thinking." He turned his gaze to Angela. "She told you?"

Angela nodded. "She told me a lot."

"Oh?"

She smiled. "I never thought I'd actually see you fall in love with anybody, John."

"What makes you think that?" Constantine asked dryly, staring at Mary's sleeping form.

"It's obvious," Angela said. "Don't worry, she loves you, too." Constantine didn't bother to look at her.

_Do I really love her_, Constantine wondered, watching Mary's deep, even breathing. He resisted a smile when she let out a tiny snore. _Yeah, I do. I haven't even known her for a full day and, Jesus Christ, I fucking do._

"I don't understand something, though," she continued. "She told me that all she has the ability to do is sing, so why is she getting visions of Raphael? It doesn't make sense."

"Maybe she just didn't know how to tap into her power. When you ignore it for a long time, it tends to disappear." Constantine looked back at Angela. "Remember?"

Angela smiled, remembering how she didn't even acknowledge her own power until Constantine had shown her how after Isobel had been murdered. Angela's heart contracted. It still hurt to think of her twin sister.

"I remember," she said softly. "But what if she's hiding something, John? I mean, how do we know for sure that she's _just_ part siren?"

"I believe her," Constantine said softly. "She's not hiding anything."

Angela pressed her lips together, but said nothing. It was awkward to watch him watching Mary. He looked at her so lovingly, that she wasn't even sure this was John Constantine anymore. _He's changed, she changed him._

_(0)_

"W-what? You want me to what?" Mary asked fearfully. "No, no, no, no. I can't do that. I mean, _really_, I can't. I'm not strong enough."

Constantine touched her shoulder comfortingly, lovingly. He stared into the green depths of her eyes. "Yes," he said. "You can."

"It's the only way," said Angela. "You're the only one who can call him."

Mary looked terrified. "You don't understand; there's something about him. He wants me."

"Mary," Constantine said, holding her face between his hands. "Do you trust me?"

Mary bit her lip, but nodded anyway.

"Good," he encouraged. "Then trust me when I say I know you can do this."

"I'm scared," she whispered brokenly. "He wants me, John, and I have a feeling that he'll get me."

"No," Constantine said fiercely. "He won't. I won't let him."

"Didn't you say that he needed a virgin to sacrifice or something?" Angela asked.

"Yeah," Mary answered, pulling away from Constantine and wrapping her arms around herself. "Yeah, but, that's the thing, I'm not a virgin."

"Then why do you think he wants you?" Angela asked reasonably.

Mary shook her head, trying to calm herself down. "I don't know," she admitted. "But I know he wants me anyway."

"Mary," Constantine said. "Please, we need you on this."

Mary shuddered, closing her eyes briefly. "Ok," she said, as if it hurt her. "I'll do it. Just tell me when and where and I'll sing."


	7. Chapter 7

They set up in an abandoned warehouse. It was cold, dark, and dank, and perfect for not attracting any innocent bystanders. Constantine was holding Mary's hand tightly, not wanting her to think for any second that she was alone in this.

"I'm here," he whispered in her ear. They were already in the warehouse, and Angela had already taken her place, hiding in the shadows, where she and Constantine would wait while Mary called Raphael.

Mary looked up at him, eyes full of love. "I know," she whispered back. "You have the earplugs, right?" Constantine nodded. "Good."

Constantine tucked a piece of her unruly hair behind an ear. He kissed her gently, letting his actions speak for the words he had yet to say.

"You'll be fine," he said wrapping his arms around her. He let her go, leaving her feel suddenly cold.

"Put the earplugs in," Mary warned. "If I can really do this, I don't want you to be affected." Constantine nodded, touching her once more before he joined Angela.

"Is she ready?" Angela asked holding out the earplugs. They watched as Mary took a deep breath before opening her guitar case. She pulled out her black guitar, placing it in her lap and sitting on the cold floor.

"We'll see, won't we?" Constantine said as he put his earplugs in. "She can do it."

_Come on, Mary, we're counting on you,_ he thought as he watched her. She took one more deep breath, closing her eyes, and then she began playing.

Even though he couldn't hear anything, Constantine was entranced by her nimble fingers dancing across the frets and strings of the guitar. He saw Mary's mouth start moving as she sang for Raphael. What she sang, he didn't know, but he didn't have to hear her voice to know that it was beautiful.

Mary sang for a while, even finishing her song, only to turn back to where Constantine and Angela were. "It's not working!" she called out.

Constantine pulled out his earplug. "Keep trying!" he yelled back.

Mary huffed, but did as she was told. She closed her eyes, letting her mind drift. She allowed her fingers to move on their own accord. She suddenly felt very light, as if she was floating. Her fingers kept moving over the guitar strings. _I don't even know what I'm playing_, she thought absently. Then she started to sing.

Mary knew that sirens could play any instrument and hypnotize even the strongest mind, but what she _didn't_ know is that they also had the ability to lure unearthly beings to them. All they had to do was allow their mind to drift away, leaving their hands and voice to instinctively call for them. Of course, since Mary wasn't raised by a siren, she had no idea of what she could or could not do, and if she had known, she still wouldn't have believed it because she was only a quarter siren.

Regardless, Mary sang, calling Raphael to her, without even realizing what she was doing. She just sang and played her guitar, and was very surprised to see a white, glowing body in front of her when she opened her eyes.

"Oh," she muttered, staring unabashed at Raphael's appearance. He was completely dressed in white, his pale skin glowing with an unnatural light.

"Mary," he smiled. "You called?"

"Uh, y-yeah," Mary stuttered. "I suppose I did."

Raphael chuckled. "I was wondering when you would, I've been waiting for you."

"You have?" she squeaked.

"Yes," he conformed. He held out a hand. Mary hesitated before taking it, allowing him to help pull her up.

_Come on, John,_ she thought desperately. _Don't leave me here._

"You are mine," Raphael continued. "It was only a matter of time before you accepted it."

"I don't understand," Mary started, "How am I yours?"

He smiled. It was unnerving how beautiful he was. "You're a part of me, Mary. I reside in you."

Mary stilled. "H-how is that possible?"

Raphael chuckled again. "When you were a baby," he explained, "your mother brought you to me. She was so happy, Mary, so proud of you. But, you see Mary; she was planning on removing all your powers. She didn't want her daughter to be 'burdened' by a siren's…abilities. She asked me to remove them from you."

"You knew my mother?" Mary asked trembling.

"Yes, I did. And she was going to destroy your life, Mary, I had to protect you." Raphael caressed Mary's cheek gently. "So I killed her, and put some of my essence inside of you. That way, when you grew old enough, you'd come back to me. We'd be together, a family."

Mary felt her whole world crashing down around her. All her life, she had believed that her mother abandoned her, left her alone to live with her father and a funny uncle who raped her whenever he had the chance. To find out that this…thing had murdered her mother and then put himself inside of her was horrifying.

"No," she whispered. She slumped onto the floor. "No."

"Yes, Mary," Raphael said. "I know. It is a bit…difficult to take in all at once. Don't worry; it will all end well once we leave."

"I don't think so," Constantine said. His gun was pointed at Raphael's head.

"John," Mary muttered, wondering when he had got there and why the hell it took so long. She leaned her head against his leg.

"Hello, John," Raphael said, completely unnerved by the presence of the gun. "Why, I should've known you were here."

"Guess angels aren't as perceptive as they used to be," Constantine said dryly.

Raphael smiled. "Guess not," he agreed. "Still, I suggest you leave my Mary and me alone now. I believe I should thank you, though, John, for keeping her safe from all those demons. They were going to bring her to me, of course, but still, I know you could keep her safe better than anyone else." He laughed shortly. "Demons aren't known for keeping their word, are they?"

Constantine narrowed his eyes, waiting for Angela to make her move. "What about the Spear?" he asked, buying more time. Raphael laughed again.

"You mean this?" he asked holding out the Spear of Destiny. He threw it up and caught it. "I have no need for this, John; I just needed you to _think_ that I did."

"You didn't need it?" Constantine asked. _What the hell?_

Raphael smiled. "No, John, I didn't." Without ever really moving at all, Raphael threw the Spear, piercing Constantine in the shoulder.

"FUCK!" Constantine yelled just as Mary yelled out, "JOHN!" He fell on the floor next to Mary. She scrambled to him just as Angela came out from behind Raphael and shooting him. Raphael hissed, turning his now frightening eyes on Angela.

"Oh my God," Mary cried with wide eyes. Constantine was writhing on the ground in pain, clutching his wounded shoulder. She pushed him down, grasping the Spear in her hand.

"I'm sorry," she said as she pulled it out. Constantine yelled and cursed. He pressed his hand against the wound, blood flowing freely from it. He looked at her in a silent, fleeting thanks, before rushing to Angela's aid.

Raphael had grabbed Angela around the throat. "That wasn't very nice, _Angela_," he said, tightening his hold on her neck. He held her up so high that her feet were dangling in the air. Constantine aimed his gun and shot, a rush of fire spewing from the gun's mouth. Raphael dropped Angela, screaming.

"My wing!" he cried. "You blew off my wing!" Constantine saw, with satisfaction, that he had, in fact, blown off his left wing, which was now a pile of ashes on the floor. Raphael's usual tranquil face was glowing with anger. He raised a hand, and an invisible force pushed Constantine against the wall, causing him to drop his gun.

"Shit," he muttered. Raphael sauntered up to him.

"John, John, John, look what you did," he taunted angrily. "I was going to let you go, but now, _now that you shot off my wing_, I'm afraid I can't allow that." He raised a hand. "Goodbye John," he said. Constantine closed his eyes, but the sound of Raphael's surprised yelp, he opened them.

Mary had jumped onto his back, squeezing his neck with all the strength she could muster. Constantine fell on the floor with a loud thud.

"Fuck," he said. Raphael was desperately grabbing at Mary, trying to get her off of him. She held on, staring at Constantine, silently asking for help. Angela was unconscious on the floor.

He picked up his gun, running toward Raphael just as he threw Mary from his back. She landed on the floor with a grunt. Constantine aimed his gun.

"Hey asshole," he cried. He shot at his right wing, but Raphael dodged it. The dragon's breath from the gun caught on something flammable, Constantine didn't see what, and there was an explosion, fire shooting out in all directions. He didn't even see where Raphael ran to.

"Fuck," he muttered. He crawled towards Mary. She was lying on her side.

"Hi," she said weakly. Constantine pulled her roughly against his body.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," he whispered, burring his face in her hair.

"I couldn't watch him hurt you," Mary said, pulling away from him. "I'm so sorry, John, this is all my fault."

Constantine held her face between his hands. "No, it's not," he said. He looked around them, seeing all the fire. He saw Angela begin to wake up. She was coughing, looking all around in confusion, but seemingly alright. Constantine was relieved. Raphael, however, was still no where to be seen.

"Promise me something," Constantine said, focusing once more on Mary.

"Anything," she replied honestly. _I_ _would give anything for you, John._

"If we get through this," he said, "marry me." Mary raised an eyebrow.

"Is this your idea of an ideal proposal?" she asked dryly. "Or are you asking because you know we'll die?"

"I'm asking you, Mary, because I love you," Constantine admitted. "I love you." Mary smiled, eyes watering.

"I love you, too," she whispered, loving the look of joy spreading across his face, warming his features.

"Sorry to interrupt," Angela said, shielding her eyes from the flames. They hadn't even noticed her walking their way. "But I'm guessing it might be a good time to leave now."

Constantine pulled Mary up, holding her hand. Before he could respond, Mary screamed, falling to the floor. Raphael, minus two wings, had crept up on them and had grabbed her ankle, pulling her to him.

"_She's mine, John_!" he screamed, pulling Mary to him. "_She's mine and you can't have her_!"

Mary kicked him in the chin, but he still didn't release his hold. Suddenly, she stopped struggling. She knew Constantine was trying to reload his gun as fast as possible, and she knew she had to buy time.

She started to sing. She didn't have her guitar, which was probably already burned to a crisp, but she sang anyway. It was a slow, melancholy tune, causing both Constantine and Raphael to stop their actions. Constantine ignored it, though, catching on to what Mary was trying to accomplish, and focused on reloading the gun.

Raphael, now human, his other wing lost in the fire, sat entranced. He let go of Mary's ankle, completely memorized by her voice. She stood up, still singing. Raphael raised himself on his knees, and slowly pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. Mary allowed him, knowing his fate and wanting to comfort him the best way she could before it happened.

Just as she sang her last note, Raphael was dropped out of his reverie. He snarled, furious, and as he lunged at her, a shot rung out through the warehouse. Raphael looked up at Mary, shock and dismay marking his once beautiful features. He fell slowly, slumping to the ground, watching her. His eyes declaring all the betrayal he had no time left to speak of.

Constantine grabbed Mary's arm. "Come on," he commanded, pulling her out of the warehouse with him. Her last glimpse was of Raphael, broken on the floor, dying.


	8. Chapter 8

ONE WEEK LATER

Mary was watching Constantine sleep. He had been doing that a lot lately, but Mary didn't mind watching him. Angela had told her that the last time he had had a big mission, he slept for almost a week straight, so there was nothing to worry about.

"He'll be fine," Angela had encouraged. "Just watch over him, and make sure he takes care of his shoulder."

"I will," Mary promised. "Be careful going…wherever it is you're going." Before Constantine had passed out, he made Angela promise to take the Spear of Destiny somewhere safe, somewhere that _wasn't_ the Vatican City, where any angel could get hold of it.

Mary had gone to her apartment, gathering some essentials, including a backup guitar, and temporarily moved in with Constantine to take care of him. Due to the serious wound in his shoulder, he didn't do much. He woke up occasionally to use the bathroom or to eat what Mary made for him. Other than that, though, he slept.

She sat on the edge of the bed, tenderly checking his bandage. Seeing that it was ok, she gently caressed his face, brushing the tendrils of hair on his forehead with her fingers.

"Oh, John," she sighed. "I really do love you." His face twitched, and his eyes began blinking furiously. He smiled when his eyes focused on her.

"Hi," he greeted.

"Hi back," Mary said, grinning. She held his hand, holding it against her mouth as she kissed each knuckle. "How are you feeling?"

Constantine sat up awkwardly. "Fine," he said. He leaned against his headboard and put an arm around Mary. After pressing a tiny kiss on his wounded shoulder, Mary cuddled against his side, throwing her arm around Constantine's stomach. He ran his fingers through her hair.

"What time is it?" he yawned.

"Around five," Mary answered, sounding very content. She kissed his bare skin.

"Hmmm," Constantine glanced down at her. "Hey, is that my shirt?"

"Yeah," Mary said.

"I thought you went to get some of your stuff from your apartment."

"I did," Mary admitted, "But this smells like you." She peered up at him. "Does it bother you that I'm wearing it?"

"No," Constantine answered truthfully. "I was just wondering." Mary smiled and settled back against him.

"You don't have to keep me company here, you know," he said after a few minutes. He twirled a piece of her hair around a finger. "I know it must be boring."

"We've had this conversation before, John," Mary said patiently. "I don't mind being here, and I don't mind taking care of you." Constantine smiled gently, amazed at how much he already seemed to love this woman after only days of knowing her.

"I just don't want you to be bored," he said, closing his eyes. "But it is nice not being alone." He let out a big yawn. Mary sat up, looking at him with concerned eyes.

"Come on," she said, helping him lay back down. "You need to sleep more." Constantine didn't bother arguing with her; he _was_ tired. When she moved to go back to her respectable chair, however, he grabbed her arm, stopping her.

"Stay with me," he breathed. Mary smiled, nodding. She laid down facing him, draping her arm across his stomach.

"Always," he heard her whisper before he drifted out of consciousness.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

_Constantine opened his eyes. Everything was clean, purely white except for two big, red chairs in the center. Raphael was already sitting in one. _

"_Relax, John," Raphael said as soon as Constantine has started groping for his gun. "This is a dream, _your_ dream to be exact. Besides," he grinned wickedly, "you've already killed me." He gestured to the chair across from him. Constantine sat down, eyeing suspiciously. _

"_What's going on?" he asked, gripping the red arm rests. "Where the fuck is Mary?"_

"_Asleep, John," Raphael answered. "Asleep right next to you. You know, while we _are_ talking about her, there are a few things I'd like to…mention." He paused, waiting for Constantine's reaction. When it never came, he continued. _

"_You see, John, you need to think about how you're going to take care of my Mary. She's a liability, a target for all those demons you've pissed off. How's it going to feel when she gets kidnapped, tortured, raped, maimed, killed…" He smiled again. "Shall I go on?"_

"_I won't let anything happen to her," Constantine vowed. _

"_Oh, yes, because you _love_ her," Raphael mocked. "Well, I loved her more, John, and I _could_ provide for her." He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. "I could have protected her from anyone and anything, what can you do?"_

_Constantine released his tight hold on the chairs armrests. He breathed, in and out, in and out…_

"_Raphael," he said calmly. "You are insane." Raphael laughed. _

Constantine awoke. Once his eyes adjusted to the dark, he realized he was at home, still in bed, with Mary lying beside him. Mary…

She looked so beautiful, perfect, in her sleep. Once arm curled around her pillow and her knees bent, Constantine felt his heart melt. His hand lightly touched her face, gently smoothing several strands of dark, curly hair away.

"He's right," Constantine whispered softly. "Staying with me will only hurt you." He pulled his hand away, sighing. He thought about leaving, wondering if he could.

"No, I can't do that," he decided sadly. "I can't leave you after I've just found you." He laughed to himself, but it had no real humor. "There's always a catch…"

(0)

Mary woke up groaning, absently reaching out to John. When her hand felt nothing but the sheets, she opened her eyes, squinting at the unwelcoming light from the windows.

"John?" she called out, her voice still thick with sleep. "John, where are you?"

No one answered.

Mary bit her lip, swinging her legs off the bed and walking to the bathroom to freshen up. _I need to get John to buy a new bathtub_, she thought as she changed her clothes. She came out of the bathroom wearing her favorite pair of black yoga capris and a red tank top with her hair pulled into a ponytail. She sat on the edge of the bed and put on her old, worn out sneakers, waiting patiently for Constantine's arrival.

It was almost two hours before he finally showed up. Mary heard him toss something on the table and then rushed to meet him.

"Where have you been?" she cried, grabbing his hand. "I've been worried." Constantine shrugged out of her hold. He sat at the table and proceeded to open a pack of cigarettes.

"I thought you quit," Mary said softly, watching him light a cigarette, putting it in his mouth and inhaling.

"Old habits die hard," he said simply. He blew smoke out of his mouth.

"Well, where were you?"

"I needed to think, alright?" Constantine said harshly, making Mary cringe. "So I went out, big deal."

"Why are you acting like this?" Mary whispered.

"Acting like what?" he asked dryly, inhaling again. "Sorry to disappoint you, but this _is_ me. Take it or leave it."

Mary narrowed her eyes. Without so much of a warning, she snatched the cigarette out of his mouth, dropping it on the floor and stomping on it with her foot. Constantine watched with uninterested eyes. He shrugged and reached for the pack. Mary grabbed it before he could. Opening one of the large windows, she threw it out on the street.

"I paid 2.50 for that," Constantine mildly protested, standing up. Mary walked up to him, and angry expression marring her pretty face, lifted one foot and stomped as hard as she could on his foot.

"_God damn_," he yelled, awkwardly hopping on his good foot. "What the hell was that for?"

Mary pointed a finger close to his nose. "You," she said, "are a bonehead."

"Bonehead?" Constantine repeated, not fully believing what he was hearing. His foot was also still hurting.

"Yes," Mary agreed fiercely. "A bonehead, and a dummy, and a…and a…and you're _stupid_!" She walked closer and closer to Constantine until he sat back down in the chair. She grabbed the front of his shirt.

"Listen," she said when he protested. "I don't know what the hell is wrong with you right now, but I _know_ it isn't you."

"You don't even know me," Constantine said. Mary's face fell. Now, instead of looking angry, she looked crushed, but she didn't let go of his shirt.

"Yes," she said sadly, "I do. Just because I haven't known you for a long time doesn't mean I don't know you, John. I know you're strong and brave and smart, most of the time anyway. I know you mostly try to do the right thing. I know you're practically always chewing gum because you _quit_ smoking. I know that you talk in your sleep. I know how you look when you're happy, sad, and angry, which is why I know this new persona is utter bullshit." She let go of his shirt, absently smoothing his collar.

"Now," she continued, "I'm going to go running and until I get back, I want you to fix what's wrong. Spank your inner moppet, do what you have to do, whatever. And when I come back, we'll talk. Ok?"

Constantine nodded, stunned and unsure of what to say.

"Good," Mary said. She walked past him, opening the door and then slamming it after she left. Constantine slammed his head against the table, ignoring the pain on his forehead.

_This isn't going to be easy_, he thought.

Constantine honestly didn't know what possessed him to go out, get drunk, and buy a pack of cigarettes. After he had woken up a second time during the night, he had felt like going out.

He ended up to Versailles, the dingy bar he had first met Mary at when she entranced him with her voice. He had a few lonely drinks, thinking about his dream and everything Raphael said.

Constantine knew it was impossible for him to break it off with Mary; he just couldn't do it, but that didn't mean that _she_ couldn't do it. He would simply go home, act like an ass, and then she'd _have_ to break up with him. It was a flawless plan.

Needless to say, Constantine was wrong, and now he felt worst than he did before. He didn't understand how Mary could think all those things about him; he wasn't anything like that.

_How can she see that in me?_

_(0)_

By the time Mary came back night had already fallen. She opened the door slowly, afraid of what she would find.

_I was too harsh on him_, she thought regretfully.

The place was covered in darkness, and Mary had to feel her way to the bedroom. When she got there, she saw a dark figure sitting on the edge of the bed, silently watching her. Mary gulped and leaned against the wall.

"Are you ok?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah," Constantine said, his deep voice seeming to fill the room. He paused. "I'm sorry."

"What happened, John?" she asked. "Why were you so cold to me?"

"I was scared," he admitted.

"Of what?"

"Mary," Constantine sighed. "I'm scared of losing you. I've made too many enemies in my life, and I'm terrified that they'll hurt you."

"So you, what, decided to push me away, so I'd leave?" she asked.

"Yes."

Mary was caught between wanting to roll his eyes and wanting to kiss him with all the passion she could muster. Instead, she went to him, kneeling to gaze into his deep, brown eyes. Her hands rested on his knees.

"You think I've never thought of that?" she asked, smiling gently. "John, I know the risks, I know what could happen, and I don't care." One hand raised up to cup his cheek. "I'm sorry, John, but I'm staying with you no matter what."

Mary's heart soared when Constantine smiled. "So, is this a proposal or something?" he teased. "Because I dimly recall asking you first."

Mary laughed. "Do you still want me?" she asked. Constantine gently pulled her up to his eye level.

"Always," he breathed. "I love you more than anything, Mary." He kissed her, thrilled that she didn't leave him, even after the stunt he pulled.

"Let's get married," he muttered against her lips. "Let's do it now." Mary pulled back, staring at him questioningly.

"There's a church on the other side of tone," Constantine explained, pulling her close again. "I know the priest there, he can marry us tonight. We can make it legal tomorrow."

"Tonight?" Mary repeated, stunned. "Are you sure?"

Constantine kissed her lips softly. "I've never been more sure of anything else in my life," he admitted. Mary bit her lip.

"Ok," she agreed smiling. "Let's go married."

Pure joy and adoration were the only words to describe the look on Constantine's face. He had never felt so happy, so alive. It was surreal. _This can't be happening to me,_ he thought.


	10. Chapter 10

They were married around midnight by Father Ralph, Constantine's "friend", in a little church on the other side of town. Mary wore a simple, strapless white dress that fell to her knees. She had insisted that she would wear something nice, refusing to get married with sweaty clothes on. Constantine personally didn't care how she looked; she would always be beautiful to him.

The vows were said, and rings they had bought from an all night pawnshop exchanged, they were now husband and wife in the eyes of the church. As Constantine kissed his bride, he knew that this was by far the happiest, most unexpected moment he had ever had.

_I'm married_, he inwardly marveled.

Constantine thanked Father Ralph after the ceremony, entwining his fingers with Mary's. They left quickly, both in silent anticipation for what was to come as soon as they got home.

When they arrived at the bowling alley, more precisely at his front door, Constantine suddenly swept Mary off her feet, tucking one arm beneath her knees and the other supporting her back.

"John!" she squealed happily. "What do you think you're doing?"

Constantine grinned wickedly. "Just carrying my _wife_ over the threshold, what does it look like?"

Mary giggled, tightening her hold around his neck as he strode into the apartment, laughing with her. He didn't let her go until he reached the bedroom.

As soon as Mary's feet hit the ground, she kissed him, sweetly attacking his mouth. Constantine responded right away, his hands framing her face as he plundered the depths of her own mouth. He felt Mary's hands start to undo his tie.

He pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers. "Are you sure?" he asked. Mary nodded.

"Yes," she whispered softly. Constantine didn't need anymore encouragement.

He kissed her again as his hands roamed the span of her back, lingering at the zipper of her dress. Mary loosened his tie, breaking the kiss to toss it somewhere. She had already managed to unbutton the first few buttons of Constantine's shirt before he leaned into kiss her once more. His thumb and forefinger took hold of her dress's zipper. He pulled it down slowly, making the zipping sound echo in the dark room. Once the zipper was down as far as it would go, Constantine's hand slid between Mary's shoulder blades, holding her against him.

_She's not wearing a bra. _

Mary had already un-tucked his shirt, working on the last button. Still kissing him, she pushed the garment off his shoulders, gripping his shoulders tightly as Constantine slowly, ever so slowly, began to pull down her dress. It seemed like an eternity before it was a pool of silk around her ankles.

Mary's heart was pounding inside her now naked chest. As soon as her dress had hit the floor, Constantine had pulled her flush against him, her breasts pressed up against his chest. The first real touch of naked skin to naked skin was almost her undoing. A strange ache had suddenly overcome her, and her breasts were tingling with want. In a daze from the sensations she was feeling, Mary kissed Constantine harder, her tongue dueling with his in the concave made from both their mouths.

Mary gasped when she felt Constantine's warm, large hand cover her right breast. His palm grazed her nipple, teasing her. He flattened his hand, gently kneading the soft flesh, making Mary moan. Almost unaware of what she was doing, her hands began unbuckling Constantine's belt. She felt the hard evidence of his arousal, causing him to break away from her lips harshly. He looked at her as if she had sprouted another head or something.

"What?" she asked innocently. Constantine's gaze traveled from her face down to her bare breasts. His fingers twitched at their perfection. Not too small, but not huge, either, they seemed to be the perfect size for his hands to cup them. He remembered the feel of her hard nipple against his hand. It made him even harder.

"Nothing," he said, his voice thick with an intense need. It was all Constantine could do but throw her on the bed and take advantage of her, but he withheld the impulse. He moved to her again, backing her up until she felt the bed behind her. "Sit down."

Mary sat, feeling a little foolish with no shirt on. Despite the heat flooding her body and thoroughly enjoying the way Constantine kept looking at her, she felt kind of weird sitting there, still in her underwear and stilettos heels. He didn't seem to mind, though. He just kneeled on the floor, his hand sliding down from her thigh to her ankle, causing chills to run through Mary's already tingling body. Her head rolled back, her eyes closed in the sensations Constantine was causing, even though he _was_ only touching her leg. His hand gripped her ankle and gently slid the shoe off her foot, his finger tickling the bottom of her foot. He repeated the action with her other foot.

Constantine stood up, wordlessly moving Mary to lie down, settling next to her. He kissed her again, trying to convey all the love he held in his heart for her. He pulled away, smiling at her before moving down to her chest, pulling her right nipple into his mouth.

Mary moaned loudly, nearly jumping off the bed. "John," she hissed, threading her fingers in his fair, pulling him closer to her. His tongue flicked her nipple back and forth as his other hand kneaded Mary's other breast. When he began to suck it, Mary's hips bucked against his. Constantine switched his attentions to her other breast before kissing a trail down her stomach until he reached the waistband of her panties. Constantine paused, glancing at Mary.

She was so beautiful it hurt to look at her. Her eyes were closed and she was biting her lip, writhing under his ministrations. When she felt him stop touching her, she looked at him with a silent pleading in her green eyes. Constantine tugged her panties down, maintaining eye contact until he had tossed them somewhere on the floor. Then he looked down, marveling at her naked body. She was just as perfect as he had imagined.

Constantine's hand rested against the heat pulsing from between her legs, his finger rubbing against the bump that resided there. Mary squealed.

"John!" she cried out, her head rolling to her side. Chuckling, he did it again. She moaned, her entire body shaking, craving for release. Constantine took pity on her, and slid a finger inside.

Mary's head rose of the bed in surprise. She fell back against the pillow, gasping as Constantine's finger slowly moved in and out, in and out. Her hands held the sheets tightly as she sweetly suffered under Constantine's actions.

After he had added the second finger, Mary halfway sat up, leaning against her forearms. "John," she pleaded. "Please, I need you."

Constantine stilled, his fingers still buried inside of her. His eyes darkened, drinking in the sight of her—naked, sweating, panting, and begging him to fulfill her needs, a task that he was all to happy to accomplish. Wordlessly, he stood up, removing the rest of his clothes. Mary watched unabashed at the evidence of his obvious arousal.

He lay beside her again, closing his eyes briefly when his bare skin touched Mary's. He settled himself above her, his large hands pushing her thighs far apart. He groaned when he felt all the heat exhuming from her.

"Ready?" he managed to croak out.

"Yes," Mary whimpered. "Please."

Constantine moved his hand to cradle the back of her head, threading his fingers through her dark curls as he entered her body with one swift movement. Both groaned at the sudden connection, the sensations each were feeling.

He rested his head in the valley between Mary's breasts. "Fuck," he breathed softly, slowly beginning to move, copying the movements of his fingers from earlier. Mary gasped, and then moaned.

"John," she cried out, wrapping her legs around his waist. Her fingers sunk into the flesh of his shoulders. "_Oh my God, John_!"

Constantine grunted, still moving inside of her. He could already feel his release coming, but was determined to have Mary climax first. As he moved, his finger came between them, rubbing her sweet spot, causing her to cry out again. He suddenly felt Mary's inner muscles clamp down on him, pushing him to his own orgasm. He let out a strangled yelp as he made his final thrust.

Breathing heavily, Constantine looked down at Mary. Her green eyes were staring back at him, and she was smiling.

"Wow," she said. "That was…"

"Fucking amazing," Constantine finished for her. Mary laughed, causing him to moan softly, due to how he was still inside of her and all.

Mary cupped his cheek gently, leaning up to kiss him. He kissed back, framing her face with his hands. He felt himself grow hard again, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Mary. She smiled.

"Again?" she teased with raised eyebrows.

"Better get used to it," Constantine said seriously. "Because this is just the beginning."

(0)

Author's Note: Well, this story is pretty much at its end. I think I'll add one more chapter to wrap it up, but I am considering writing a sequel. If anyone has an opinion/idea of what they would like to see happen, let me know.

One more thing: I've started writing a one shot companion piece for this story called "A Night in the Life...", so if anyone wants to check it let me know.

Remember to review!


	11. Chapter 11

"So, how many demons in total do you think you've sent back to hell?" Mary asked. She and Constantine were seated on the bed, naked as the day they were born, playing _cards_.

Constantine shrugged, throwing down another card. "I don't know," he replied honestly. "Too many to count."

Mary nodded understandingly, also throwing in a card. Slapping down the large pile between them, she smiled triumphantly. "Ha," she gloated. "I win again."

Constantine narrowed his eyes. "You know that's only because I'm _letting_ you win, right?"

Mary shrugged, still smiling brightly. "It doesn't matter as long as I'm winning," she said, causing Constantine to chuckle. "Your turn," she continued. He adjusted his position to lying across from Mary.

He tossed down a card. "Ok…did you know that from this angle I can see your…"

"John!" Mary cried, blushing. She closed her legs tightly. Constantine laughed. Mary sputtered, thinking of something to say, then, realizing it was pointless, settled for jumping on top of her husband.

"You're horrible," she scolded gently. Her nose was pressed against his, and their legs were entangled.

"That's why you love me," reminded Constantine. With one quick movement, he had rolled over, placing himself on top of Mary instead. She stared at him lovingly, running her hand through his hair.

"Yeah," she agreed, "you're right." She raised her head to kiss him. Constantine kissed her back, once again wondering how the hell something like this had ever happened to him, but then Mary's hand wandered down to touch him _there_, and all reasonable thought promptly left his brain.

He pulled away, only to begin kissing her neck, sucking on the flesh gently. He loved her moans, her sighs; the way she touched him. He loved _everything_ about this woman.

"John," she moaned once he moved his attention to her breasts, pulling one into his mouth and sucking while kneading the other. "Oh…" she breathed, when he switched positions.

Constantine began kissing a trail from Mary's breast to her stomach, making her shiver. He laid his head against her abdomen, wrapping his arms around her bottom, nuzzling the soft skin gently.

"I really do love you," he whispered. Mary's heart went out to him.

"I love you, too, John," she whispered back, threading her fingers through his hair. "More than I can say."

Constantine turned his head to look at her, grinning wickedly. He resumed peppering kisses on her skin, down until he reached her thighs. Mary's eyes widened; she knew what he wanted to do.

"J-John?" she said uncertainly. "Um…?"

"You don't want me to?" he asked, concern entering his eyes.

Mary bit her lip. "I-I don't know. No one has ever…you know."

Constantine smiled gently. "Don't worry, you'll like it," he assured, "and if you don't, I'll stop."

Mary blushed, thinking about his mouth on her. She had always secretly wanted someone to perform this act for her, but now that it was about to happen, she couldn't help but feel nervous and self conscious.

"Ok," she consented, watching Constantine lower his mouth on to her. As soon as his tongue flicked against her heated flesh, Mary threw her head back, hissing.

"Oh my God," she cried, her fingers grasping the sheets tightly. "John!"

Constantine chuckled softly as he licked her. Without moving his mouth, he glanced up, wanting to see her writhing. Mary was panting, her hands clenched into fists, and the valley between her breasts was starting to sweat.

She was a goddess.

Feeling himself grow harder, Constantine made a rash decision. Still sucking on the little bundle of nerves hidden there, he took two fingers and pushed them into her body slowly, making Mary groan. Determined to make her climax, he began pumping his fingers faster, flicking his tongue wildly against the little nub. When he added the third finger, it was her undoing.

Mary let out a harsh cry when it hit her, the pleasure coming in intense waves. She barely noticed when Constantine crawled back up to hold her, kissing her forehead tenderly.

"That," she said, looking up at him helplessly, "was incredible."

Constantine smirked, absently fondling her breast. "Told you," he said smugly. Mary didn't say anything, just raised her head to kiss him, tasting herself on his lips.

"I want you inside of me," she whimpered. Constantine's eyes darkened like they always did when this part happened. He settled above her as Mary spread her legs as far as they could go. Without a word, he slid into her hard, causing a groan to erupt from both of them. Mary's head rolled on the pillow, her arms around Constantine's waist as if he were her lifeline.

He started to move, slowly at first, so she would become accustomed to his invasion of her body. Then his slow, gentle thrusts turned hard and fast. Mary was slicker than usual, due to her orgasm beforehand, and Constantine found that it made it even harder for him to keep his control.

He lost all reasonable thought, only thinking of finding release. His breathing was harsh and uneven as he pounded relentlessly into Mary, who was close to satisfaction already. Her nails scratched Constantine's back, leaving long red welts.

"John," she cried, clenching her teeth as she felt the familiar build up. She let out an unrestrained yell as it came again, this time stronger and harder than the first.

Constantine gasped when he felt Mary's inner muscled contract. He thrusted wildly until he came spilling his seed deep into his wife's body. He practically collapsed against her, his head resting against her breasts. The only sound in the room was their harsh breathing.

"God damn," he said finally. He pulled out, rolling over on the bed to hold Mary against him.

"Yes," she agreed, resting her cheek against his chest.

"I love you," Constantine said, pulling Mary closer to him and kissing her forehead.

"I love you more," Mary whispered, her eyes drifting closed. Constantine chuckled, but refrained from comment. He felt so lucky, lying there with his wife in his arms.

_This was never supposed to happen to me_, he told himself again, _I was never supposed to be this happy. _

But he was, and Mary was all that mattered. She was his life now, his sole reason for living. He had a new purpose in life, so to speak. Sure, he would still perform exorcisms and, well, save the world from unspeakable demons, like always, but now he would also be sure to keep this woman happy, and to always let her know that he loved her more than anything. If he could hold on to this, he would die a happy man.

_What an unexpected occurrence_, _John Constantine married and in love, _Constantine thought happily as he joined Mary in the deep abyss of sleep.

Later, there would be more battles and more demons. Fights, arguments, misunderstandings, et cetera, but all that mattered to these two individuals was that they had each other and that they loved each other. They would worry about the rest later.

Now was all that mattered.

The End

Author's Note: Well, that's it; _An Unexpected Occurrence_ is now complete. It was a pleasure to write, and I hope that anyone who read this enjoyed it as well.

As I've mentioned before I posted a oneshot piece called "A Night in the Life…" on featuring Constantine and Mary, well…you know…If anyone wants it, you can get the link on my profile.

I've kind of already started writing a sequel to this story, but am a bit unsure of where it's going. If anyone has ANY idea of what he/she wants to see, please, PLEASE let me know. My inspiration for any real plot has been wearing thin, so all ideas are appreciated.

Again, I sincerely hoped you enjoyed my story…

Until next time!

PLEASE REVIEW


End file.
